Vermilion
by livingdeadgirl
Summary: Three kids try to use magic to stop Freddy with disastrous results and the return of some old friends...UPDATED! FINALLY we see Nancy!
1. Chapter 1: Enter the Night…

Title: Vermilion

Chapter 1: Enter the Night…

Author: Kora

E-mail: or 

Rating: R

Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Action-Adventure/Dark stuff and yeah…some romance-like-things…

Disclaimer: The following a character belong to Wes Craven and I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Author's Notes: This is what I get for being reminded of my beloved Nightmare fandom and listening to the Resident Evil 2 soundtrack I just bought…actually this is what I get for my sudden interest in Resident Evil in general…otherwise I would have never gotten this idea - well that and Heart Stricken's pretty LJ icon…

Hmm, this will probably end up being a series if you folks want it to continue. And yes, it is based on the Slipknot song of the same name, which I also do not own. Hopefully you all enjoy….

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Tim kept on running, even though he felt as if his face was frozen. The night sky in Springwood was so dark he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face and yet he kept running, not slowing down a beat. He was all ready running fifteen minutes late. Emily and Tara were going to kill him.

But then again, if he had stayed home and fallen asleep he would have been killed anyway. This thought caused him to chuckle with what little breath he had. His lungs felt like they would burst if he kept up at this pace, but he didn't falter. He knew the Church was only a few feet away.

He could all ready see the glowing sign on the front lawn that read 'North Springwood Presbyterian Church'. Beneath the name were the words 'Pray. God Will Listen.'

Seeing that made Tim snort and shake his head, _not in this town._

He dashed off the paved roads and onto the crunchy grass of the church's lawn. He passed under one of white yellow street lamps and made his way effortlessly to the graveyard. A tall stone fence surrounded the plot and the metal black gate was locked and closed.

Tim's eyes narrowed and through the gate he could see a tiny green glow. Glowsticks. Emily and Tara had all ready made their way inside. Now it was his turn. He ran his hands along the rough stone of the fence, searching for the loose groves he and Tara had spotted earlier in the day.

His fingers sank in to one of the empty holes and he grinned, now came the hard part. Struggling, he managed to lodge his sneaker into one hole and, using it as a crude foot hold, managed to begin scaling up the fence. Once he reached the top he fell ungracefully down on to the other side.

A litany of hash curses erupted from him as he rubbed at his sore backside. Out of the corner of one eye he could see the glowsticks bobbing towards him. Then a flashlight was in his hazel eyes, making him flinch.

"God, Tim, talk about discreet." A voice said scornfully.

Tara. He frowned, raising a hand in front of his eyes, "This coming from the girl blinding me with the flashlight."

The light eased and Tim's eyes focused enough to see that, while Tara still held onto the flashlights handle, Emily had pushed the girl's wrist to one side. A tiny grin formed as he looked at the two girls.

They were as different as night and day. Tara had short, shaggy blonde hair and a snarky personality, while Emily had long dark hair and was known for being one of the sweetest girls in school. But now they both stood next to one another, wearing about the same exact outfit and make-up.

But then what was he supposed to expect when it came to witches? Or was it Wiccans? Or was it both? He wasn't sure; he had only moved here two months ago and had become these two girl's friend in even less time than that.

The three of them had formed something of an outcast little band. There was no label for them yet, though Tim kept suggesting 'The Lost Sexuals'. He remarked that not only did it sound like a good band name should they ever decide to pursue that career but also that was how Springwood's other teens defined them best.

Tara had long ago been labeled a lesbian and Emily, also, by association. And once Tim had moved in and remarked casually that he lived in San Francisco and didn't like sports, well, yeah, he was a fairy to the high school populace now.

Which was why it was kind of funny that the three of them were here to try and save the town and all those people they hated. Okay, more directly, the high school teens they hated, who had labeled them unjustly. Except maybe Tara, who Tim kinda suspected actually _did_ dig chicks. She certainly looked at Emily that way enough…

Not that he was going to say anything, he was glad enough to have any friends at all without ruining it. He hadn't had any back in San Francisco and this was his first time actually having people around who seemed to give a shit. And while Tara and Emily weren't exactly dancing around calling him their 'best friend', they still were something more than mere acquaintances.

Emily offered a hand and Tim took it, rising to his feet. He rubbed absently at his backside as Tara finally cracked a smile and shook her head, "Come on. Let's go. We've all ready got everything set up."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Tim asked as he followed after the two girls, "I mean, I don't know, I sometimes think…I mean, maybe that dream was just that. _A dream_, you know. I mean, you can't _really_ expect me to believe…I mean, that its possible that some bogeyman is waiting for me."

"Trust us, he is." Tara muttered.

As always, Emily came in right after Tara's sarcastic 'bad cop' glowers with her friendly 'good cop' explanations, "Tim, you know you didn't _just_ have a dream. And it wasn't a dream, now was it? No, it was a nightmare and he was there and he is real. I mean, you said so yourself, he swiped at you with his claws and caught some hair and you woke up missing a couple locks."

"Yeah," Tim ran a hand through his hair, "It was kind of disconcerting but…I mean, it was just some hair on my pillow, it wasn't like I woke up bald or something-"

"Yeah, well, Freddy wasn't trying to be a good barber, a'right? He was trying to chop your head off and missed. Given a second chance, he won't miss again. You want to wake up with your head on your pillow?" Tara muttered, weaving her way through tombstones.

Emily and Tim both followed closely behind and Emily sighed, "She is right, Tim. From what we did manage to dig up on Krueger, he's been around a long time. He's killed dozen of kids. Every now and then some kid manages to stop him for a while but he keeps coming back, keeps killing."

She shook her head, sounding exhausted, "I mean you saw what happened Monday at school. Mak Owens didn't show up for first period and by the end of the day we hear he's dead. Not to mention before him we had both Sandy Johnson and Bob Davies fall to 'tragic circumstances'. No, come on, it's too easy, too simple. Kids shouldn't just be dropping like flies. I mean, every place has their tragedies and teens die but not like, two or three a week like here in Springwood. It's crazy! And the adults won't tell us anything…ridiculous…"

"We're here." Tara said and Tim blinked at the sight before him.

From the gate he hadn't been able to see this host of candle light but now that he looked at all the burning pillars before him, his jaw dropped. The candles had been shaped in a pentagram and to either side were dark bundles he could bearly make out but knew had to be what Tara had been calling 'ingredients'.

This whole spell idea had been hers. She was the one who had suggested the Presbyterian Church. She had noted that any church of any domination would have done just as well but this one had the most lax security and easy entrance.

She had gathered all the 'ingredients' and had only requested that both Tim and Emily show up, saying their presence would be needed. And that there would be a little participation on both their parts.

Tim wasn't too excited about the idea of serving in any kind of dark ceremony. While he didn't believe in magic, white or dark or otherwise, he still felt there were something things people just shouldn't mess with.

But Tara had been so adamant as had Emily and whenever he thought of that dream…

No, Emily was right, it hadn't been a dream, it had been a nightmare. He could still recall the heat from the boiler room pipes, the sound of that smoky laugh…he shuddered at the very memory and rubbed at his hair again.

It had only been a few strands but…Jesus, when those claws had whizzed near his head, he had thought himself a goner.

Tara withdrew the big, thick book she had found a couple of days ago. Tara's entire family was into magic and the occult. She had been rummaging through her messy house and had come across the dusty volume. Most of the pages were yellowed to almost a brown point. The writing near illegible.

It was written in some ancient text that Tara herself couldn't decipher much less begin to understand but she was pretty sure she could sound out most of the words. Besides, there were illustrations. Very hard to understand illustrations, yes, mostly scribbles but they were there none the less and Tara was quite sure she understood them well enough to proceed.

She had also, as innocently as she could manage, prodded her mother about the book. She had jokingly stated that she had seen such a book long ago, when she was about five and all the sudden had thought of it and wondered where it came from and what happened to it and what it had within its pages and so on and so forth.

Amazingly, Mrs. Strong had bought it.

"Really? You saw that book? I'm amazed really, thought that thing was lost…and that you even remembered it…well, then again, it's not something you can easily forget…I remember the first time I saw it. I was about fourteen. That book has been handed down through our family for ages. Rumor has it one of your ancestors, or whatever, you get the idea, anyway, one of them supposedly stole it from 'the gods' or something like that. Or maybe it was 'the demons'. The latter sounds more accurate.

"That book is supposed to be super powerful. Have spells in it that would make your head spin. Stuff that makes modern Wiccan look like child's play. It's supposed to have _real_ magic in it. Real bona fide, magic. Now whether it's good magic or bad is debatable. It's supposed to be strong stuff whatever it is, so if you find that book Tara Joan Strong, you had better hand that over to me. I'll lock it up good, safe, and sound. Better that way then you running off, reading it, and getting yourself in trouble."

Tim had seen the possibility for future trouble right there when Tara had recalled the incident but she had waved it off with a little laugh. Nothing bad would happen. She was sure of it. Positive.

Why did Tim all ready feel like he was regretting this?

But at the same token, since the nightmare, he hadn't slept in three days. He just kept thinking of that laugh. Of that burned man…Freddy…

He shuddered and dug his hands deep into his black hoodie, watching with vague interest as Tara pulled a dark bottle out of one of her bags. She ran her fingertips over some lines in the book and slowly annunciated what she saw, tossing the contents of the bottle about.

A dark liquid burst forth and Tim didn't even want to think about what it might be. Instead he looked at Emily who was watching with wide, cerulean eyes. He edged closer to her, whispering in her ear, "So what does this spell do exactly?"

"We're not too sure. But from what little we _did_ manage to translate, and from the pictures, we're pretty sure it's a three-fold spell. First, it'll cause the spirits of all those Freddy has killed to arise. Second, it will draw Freddy out of what is called the 'Dreamscape' and into the real world. And finally, third, the spirits that arise will turn on Freddy, binding him."

"Binding him where?"

"Oh you know," Emily waved a hand, "To death or whatever."

"So they'll attack him? Or - or send him to hell? Something like that?"

"Yeah," Emily bit her bottom lip, "In theory. We think."

"Uh huh. You know, you really need to work at the reassuring thing 'cause right now, I kinda want to jet."

Emily rested a hand on Tim's arm, "Don't worry. This will work."

"I guess I'll have to take your words for it though...um…didn't they do something like this in one of the Harry Potter books?"

"I heard that." Tara scowled, as she began to draw out even more weird objects from her bags. Broken bone fragments, tiny feathers, and twigs held together by pieces of twine. She took in a loud breath, her eyes dancing over the lit candlewicks, "Trust me, Tim. No one has more power than Freddy's past victims."

She tossed in under her breath, "Especially seeing as he has so many," then said more loudly, "They'll have all the powers of the underworld…its gonna be killer."

"See? Again. Balking at your last word. No sort of reassurance from you guys. I got nothing."

Tara let out a puff of breath and ran her hands over the soft black material of her pants, "Well how about this, if this spell works, Freddy will be bound _forever_. It won't be like those last times, where those teens _thought_ they had killed him. This is ancient magic, old magic, it doesn't break. It will hold and it will bind him to death or hell or whatever forever. No coming back."

"Now, see, that's a bit more on the comforting side." Tim said, though his tone was still dry as he shook his head, "I still don't believe this will work though. And hey, how many teens did you hear killed him only for him to come back?"

Emily rubbed at her bare arms, shivering,"It was hard to dig up info on him…most of Springwood's library database had him erased, completely scrubbed out. However, in Sasport-"

"What port?"

"Sasport. It's a town even smaller than Springwood, about fifteen minutes away from here going south. Well, Sasport's library had a few notes. Mostly bias local papers. Sasport and Springwood have always had something of a rivalry. Anyway, most of the papers wrote about how the neighboring town couldn't 'keep track of its youth', how we're 'running wild' and that's why most of us wind up dead.

"But interestingly enough; there was an old local interest piece all about Krueger. What it was like when he was alive, a look at his bio and the kids he killed, his eventual capture and the following trial, all about how those parents burned him alive and the 'rumors' of his returning from the dead in kids dreams to kill him…it was all there."

Tim scoffed, "_That_ was awfully helpful."

Emily couldn't help but giggle a little, "What was really weird about it, was that it had actually been intended for the Springwood papers."

Tim frowned, eyebrows knitting together, "You've lost me."

"Well at the top of the article, there was this little blurb in Italics about how this whole story was supposed to be in the Springwood papers but it was rejected. The author of the piece was furious, brought it over to Sasport, hoping it might do some good some day and, well, what do you know."

"Oh…well, who wrote the article?"

"Some girl, her name was like…Yves or Yvonne or something. She even remarked that she'd been involved with someone who had dealt with Freddy."

"Involved?"

Tara let out a loud, frustrated noise, "Yeah, involved, some chick named Alice. They were probably part of our club too, or legitimately gay, look, can you two keep it down? This isn't easy work."

Both Tim and Emily nodded, looking a bit chagrined. Emily shivered again and Tim removed his hoodie, offering it to her. She gave him a warm smile and slipped it on. He wanted to question why she would come out wearing a tank top when it was freezing but chose to honor Tara's request for silence.

He didn't know how complicated it was setting up for a spell but it certainly looked to be tricky business as Tara kept arranging things and mumbling words under her breath. The words sounded like nonsense but for some reason each one made him tremble. Or maybe that was because he didn't have his hoodie now.

He rubbed at his own arms, thankful that he at least had long sleeves when Tara rose to her feet, looking at both of them. Her eyes looked glossy white, dark makeup smudged all around her eyes to the point where they looked hollowed out. Her red lipstick looked slightly smeared and Tim wasn't going to ask why as she raised her arms, her hands outstretched to them, "Come on. It's time."

Tim swallowed and trembled again, knowing that this time it really had nothing to do with the cold. He didn't know why he was so nervous. This was silly. Their little spell probably wouldn't work anyway. Still he felt as if his heart was trying to descend into his stomach and then that both were going to try and make a break for it through his mouth.

He moved warily forward behind Emily, who seemed more sure of herself. The three of them joined around the candle-arranged pentagram, holding hands in the shape of a triangle. Tara had set the book in front of her feet and she closed her eyes, her head tipping back.

"Estra nos trus, ekbreckta nos trus." She whispered, her fingers tightening their hold, "Nos trus henzenta, henzenta, blecktool es fententia."

Tim licked his lips and Emily was wide eyed as they looked at their friend. Tara chanted the same litany again and Tim felt his skin crawl. He wanted to let go. This wasn't right. It didn't…_feel_ right.

But he knew if he let go both Emily and Tara would kill him. And he couldn't bear the thought of losing his new friends, especially not since he now finally _had_ friends. Besides, Tara and Emily had both drilled into him again and again how important it was that he was there and he participated. Stating that even if he had no magical training or inclinations what so ever, the power of three was important.

Tara's head weaved from side to side lazily and then she shot up right, her back so straight Tim thought it must have been hurting her when her eyes opened. They looked more white than ever before and he could almost swear…no…she still had her iris? Right?

He couldn't be sure. He didn't see any green in her eyes at all…they looked all white and when she spoke again her voice sounded deeper, each word booming out, "Detra es fententia. Tantir-man eargrets gutt canda amantos canda."

Suddenly the air felt charge and Adam felt like each one of the hairs on the back of his neck was standing up at end…like static. And the candle flames seemed to go completely wonky. He wanted to blame the wind but no, they were blossoming, the flames growing brighter and higher.

He edged back a little as they rose up, flaring up between them all and, okay, we're they growing? The shape of the pentagram became more pronounced and Tim felt as if his left hand was being crushed in Tara's grip. His right hand was held onto not as tightly, Emily's palm damp and she herself looked a little freaked but also…excited.

Tim could almost swear a beam of light was connecting him and Tara and Emily, as if pronouncing the fact that they were in a triangle around the pentagram. Tara spoke again, her voice growing feverish, "Cunda astratta montose! Gurainik nos trodomus yagtraten! Canda!"

Tim swore as the ground beneath his feet began to shake, Tara kept repeating the last word and Tim was aware that his left hand was rising up and that's because Tara's was rising up. Her toe tips were scrapping the ground and her head kept bouncing about her neck in a way that looked painful.

Her eyes looked like they were on fire, her voice vicious and angry as she spoke, "Comlatra verinishka teltorba! Es canda dreamtra demonoius! Beyekta es una tes toltroas tara! Dreamtra demonoius es explotrada seedya ona tara! Fareta es una es enimonious pureotious! Canda!"

Tara's head snapped back and Tim heard a far distant rumbling. He looked up and lightening flashed above his head. It flashed again, darting between two clouds and then lightening seemed to shoot up from Tara, right up through the center of her and into the sky. The dark, thick cumulous clouds broke and something formed right in the center of them…it looked like…a portal.

Dark fuchsia and purple. It was beautiful and frightening and Tim thought Tara would break the bones in his hand when Emily let out a whining yelp, her hand managing to worm away from Tara's. Tara's scream was sharp and shrill as she crashed back down to the ground. The portal was not closed though and instead electrical energy seemed to zoom around it, crackling.

"Jesus" Tim breathed, looking at the opening they'd left in the sky, "What have we done?"

Emily rushed over to Tara, crying and hysterical. Tara rose to sit up, she looked dizzy and confused, "Was'-was' happened? Was' goin' on?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to let go it's just…I - I thought I saw something," Emily cuddled Tara close to her, still crying her voice coming in gasping sobs, "In the portal…falling out of it and…It was coming right towards us I thought and it was so stupid! It was probably nothing."

Tim frowned, looking around. He felt edgy, scared and completely vulnerable, "What did you think you saw?"

"I - I can't. It's - so stupid." Emily gasped.

The ground beneath Tim's feet had shook. He remembered that starkly. It had shaken hard, once, like some hand had grabbed it and tugged it viciously about. Like the way a cat does when a mouse is in its mouth. As if trying to scramble brains about.

Tim looked around and thought he heard something snap. Then there was this wheezing sound. Like some old man on his last breath and then a groan. Tim didn't know why, but he began to blow out all the candles. Snuffing the light out. Emily kept trying to ask why but she only managed to get out these questionable noises.

Tim gathered up the book and held it close to him, then fished about for the flashlight from earlier. He managed to find it, even in the dark, and fingered the button tentatively, not yet clicking it on.

His eyes rose up to the portal in the sky and he noted that shafts of light had begun to pour of it. Almost as if shooting the light out to certain locations. The shots came quickly and a few of them struck the ground in the church graveyard.

One was close enough that Tim could see it strike. It appeared to be nothing but the air seemed to sizzle, as if acid rain had fell or maybe a star and it had struck the bed of a grave…

Tim looked at the grave for several seconds, as if waiting…for something. He didn't even know what and Emily was grabbing at his shirt collar now, still crying and begging that they all just go home. Tara was too dizzy and confused to argue and let Emily lead her about.

Tim, however, refused to budge, his eyes still on the grave. Nothing moved and he shook his head, turning to follow Emily and Tara out when he noticed both girl's had froze. He looked past them and saw what they saw.

His head tilted to one side and he felt as if all the life was sucked out of him, "Oh shit."

About a dozen different graves ahead of them had broken open. Loose dirt lay everywhere and hands were rising up to the sky. People were pulling themselves up and out of their graves.

They were coated in dirt and were deathly pale. Their clothes were torn and their hair disheveled from…crawling up out of their coffins and out of the ground. Some of them were groaning and others hissing, a few sporting injuries that even the make-up people in a funeral home couldn't fix. Tim stepped in front of the girls.

He looked back at both of them and shoved the book at Tara and the flashlight at Emily. He took both of their free hands and shook his head, "Well ladies, great job. We've got zombies."

"But - but the spell…it was supposed to…resurrect the dead sprits of Freddy's victims…"

"Oh it resurrected all right!" Tim hissed, "Follow me!"

Tim began to yank them thorough the graveyard. His night vision wasn't any better than theirs but neither of them was in any condition to lead the way. He didn't know where this internal strength was coming from but he hoped it continued as they rushed past the newly arisen corpses.

The zombies themselves didn't put up too much of a chase. Still a bit dazed from rising up. It wasn't until Tim reached the fence and began pushing Tara up that they seemed to get their bearings.

And then they were moving _fast_.

"FUCK! SHIT! SHIT!" Tim hissed as he practically booted Emily up and over. The zombies were…Jesus, were they running? They were only dead five minutes ago! They shouldn't be able to move so fast! They didn't move that fast in the movies!

Tim kept cursing as he began to work his way up the fence. Some random male zombie almost caught his sneaker by inches and then he was falling again, this time on the other side of the fence.

The zombies swarmed at the gate noisily. Beating their fists on the metal and making these loud, obnoxious noises with their dead throats. Tim looked at them, still cursing and rose to his feet to see Emily and Tara staring at the zombies dumb founded.

He took both of their hands again and began to lead them away, "Come along, ladies. Think we've done enough for one night!"

The trio dashed away, completely unaware that not but five feet behind them, crumpled up in the bushes, was the very monster they had set out to attack.

They were also unaware that several miles away, a tombstone reading Nancy Thompson rested peacefully. A split second of light seemed to touch the grave bed and then, several minutes later, the dirt began to shift and a pale white hand rose into the air.

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Extra Author's Notes :Just for the record, almost all of the chant words/magic spell I made up, so if, by some chance, some of them are real words in some language, I apologize - as I did not intend it that way - it's supposed to just be gibberish.

However, if you are really sharp or just a big horror fan, you probably caught that some of the chant words were from 'Evil Dead' but rearranged…hmm…let's think about that and what _that_ could mean…

Also, for those who may be in fear, I assure you I _know_ what I am doing. There will be a lot of Freddy in here and a lot of Nancy…and I know you're thinking, well, wouldn't Nancy's body be long since rotted and gone the way of worm food by now? All I ask is that you trust me, all shall be explained if you just keep reading…I mean, if you like this and I am given the green light to continue.


	2. Chapter 2: Past Fatalities so Fragile, Y...

Title: Vermilion

Chapter 2: Past Fatalities so Fragile, Yet so Devious

Author: Kora

E-mail: or 

Rating: R

Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Action-Adventure/Dark stuff and yeah�some romance-like-things�

Disclaimer: The following a character belong to Wes Craven and I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Author's Notes:

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It had been, for the most part, a normal day on the Dreamscape.

Or at least, as normal as you could expect from such a place.

Freddy Krueger had had a pretty mediocre time of things. He had scared about at least a dozen kids that day, noting that he would have to go back and actually kill them later. Every now and then it was fun to just scare them, then go back and wrap it all up. After all, what was the fun in just killing them out right each time? No, some he scared and came back for, while others, well, yeah, they just had to die that first time.

He had just finished killing some girl named Melanie. He had thought it rather funny that her name was Melanie and when he was slicing her open it was as easy as slicing a melon.

He knew there was some kind of witty joke in there he could have made to her but before he could think of it, his claws were sticking out through her spine and she was a bit too dead to listen. So he had just played with her corpse for a while, chopping and dicing and having a pretty good time when suddenly he'd felt�odd.

Freddy had paused in the process of removing her arm from her shoulder, cocking his head to one side and frowning. The air seemed strange in the dreamscape all of the sudden. As if charged and he thought he could hear some strange whispering�as if on the wind�

But considering he controlled _everything_ in the Dreamscape, this seemed impossible and he had decided to ignore it. He finally worked Melaine's arm free from her body and played with her hand a bit, forming her fingers into a fist save for her middle finger, which stood straight up.

He proceeded to stick said middle finger up her nose and was laughing at this image when he suddenly caved inward, clutching his stomach. His frown turned into a scowl. What the hell had that been? Then he felt another tug and grunted in pain. It felt almost as if an invisible fishing string had formed behind his bell button and was tugging him.

The string inside him jerked again and he cried out, startled as everything around him seemed to rotate wildly. The next thing he knew he was free falling and he felt terribly cold and then his entire body rammed into something hard and unforgiving.

Freddy wasn't sure how long he had been out, laying on the ground but as he came to he realized bushes surrounded him. Twigs and leaves poking at him, dirt beneath the palms of his hands and he thought he heard voices�

_Come along, ladies. Think we've done enough for one night!_

Tim, where are we going to go?

Tim?

__

How about Tara's?

Tara?

__

Sound good t' me�Ma's not�les' jus' go�

And then the sound of scrabbling feet on pavement. Boots, sneakers�his head was killing him.

He waited a breath or two, his gaze upwards and he noted that the sky looked a little bit more than just strange.

A portal rested high above, swirling with colors and lightning. He looked at that sight, not sure what to make of it before sitting up and pressing a hand to his head. He found his fedora had flown off to one side and he quickly snatched it up, depositing it on his burned, bald scalp.

He blinked a few times and looked around, trying to steady himself. The Nightmare Man was dazed and confused. Where was he? Wherever it was, it was fucking cold.

Cold?

Freddy drew in the night air and saw the pavement, the church in the distance, the tall stone fence he rested next to. The weather became even more stark and he knew he had no control over it�

The Real World? Fuck! Not _again_! He groaned and flopped back into the bushes, exhausted and pissed. What kid did it this time? He hadn't zoomed in on any kid in particular lately.

Maybe it was those kids�Tim, Tara and the other one. She hadn't said her name. But out of them, Tim sounded the most familiar. Hadn't he dealt with a Tim recently? Cute, poster boy kid? Looked like he could play 'Oliver'? Curly hair and clean features�

Oh and yes, the newest resident to make the mistake of living in 1428 Elm. Freddy remembered now. It was always pleasant to get fresh blood on Elm Street, especially in _that_ house, but this time it had been particularly sweet. It wasn't often he got a boy.

True, he much preferred girls. They were more fun to scare and their screams were so high and shrill. So _good_. He always had a thing for the whores in that house but a change of pace had been�refreshing.

And there was something annoyingly familiar about that Tim kid in particular. He couldn't quite place his razortipped finger on it, but something�

He got to his feet and brushed himself off. Well, if Tim and his friends had done it, they certainly hadn't stayed around to admire their handiwork. Or to attempt and kill him or kick his ass or whatever.

They were long since gone and this gave Freddy a chance to look around his old digs. It was kind of strange to be alone and in the real world. To actually have a chance to relax in it. And in his beloved Springwood no less.

He immediately recognized the old Presbyterian Church. He hadn't attended, naturally, but he sure as hell had snatched some kids from here. Mostly on Sundays after Bible School. He remembered them singing 'Yes, Jesus Loves Me' with a bit of a chuckle.

Yes, Jesus loved them and Freddy did too. Especially when he got to test a new glove out on one of them. Ah, what it had been like then. Alive and unsuspected. Creeping among Springwood's normal citizens and snatching up their kids to kill, no one the wiser. Not even Loretta nor Katherine had known then and he'd been happy as hell. A loving father and husband by day, a razor-glove-inventing, child killer at night. It had been perfect.

Too perfect. Hence why it had had to end.

He scowled and rubbed at his arms. Even his damn sweater couldn't keep him warm in this weather. Why the hell had he been brought back here? If not to get killed by some kids or by Jason then what? It wasn't that he didn't mind not getting beat on (especially by that Goliath, most-stupid-mistake-he'd-ever-made-Jason) but it was frustrating being here, with old memories and with nothing to do.

He wanted to go back to his Dreamscape, back to his domain. His home. But he couldn't even begin to fathom how to do that. Shit, he didn't even know how the brats had brought him out without first entering the Dreamscape and physically dragging him out. What had they done? Why had they done it? Why was he here?!

The frustration in him was easily boiling over into anger and Freddy really wanted to kill someone when suddenly he heard some muted groans. He raised a brow and slowly turned in the direction of the sound.

His eyes widened and he stepped back, mouth-dropping open to show rotted teeth as he looked at the sight before him. A large swarm of dead bodies were hunched in front of the entrance gate of the graveyard. Their arms stretched out, grabbing wildly at the air and they struggled against the metal bars.

Zombies? In Springwood? What the _fuck_ had those brats been doing?!

Freddy then recognized certain dead faces in the crowd. One of them was a pudgy teenage girl with pigtails. What had her name been? Jospehina? And there, in the back, a tall muscular boy who he could swear was named Samuel�god, hadn�t he killed that kid only like, what? Three weeks ago?

And that's when he realized that these Zombies were all kids he had killed. He stepped back, not quite sure what to do. He had wanted to kill someone but�he had _all ready_ killed these people.

His mouth closed, forming into a tight line. Those kids had done something. They were responsible. They had brought him here and they would just have to send him back. Or they would have to die. Preferably both. He still knew his way around. He would find them.

Of course, matters weren't helped by the fact that he looked much worse off than any _living_ burn victim. Then again, it was nighttime. Most people were probably asleep. No one would notice�

He looked at the portal in the sky, then at the Zombies, and shook his head as he began to walk away. Yeah, no one would notice. For once, Springwood had bigger problems.


	3. Chapter 3: She Seems Dressed in All the ...

Title: Vermilion

Chapter 3: She Seems Dressed in All the Rings...

Author: Kora

E-mail: or 

Rating: R

Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Action-Adventure/Dark stuff and yeah…some romance-like-things…

Disclaimer: The following a character belong to Wes Craven and I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Author's Notes: I got more reviews with my second chapter, so hopefully this one will get even more reviews, seeing as its one of the best chapters in the series, I think - what can I say? I'm a review whore…

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Freddy Krueger was walking around Springwood, right down the center of the street as if he were any other normal person, his shoulders hunched as he looked from house to house. Everyone slept peacefully in their respective beds, completely unaware that one of their greatest terrors was walking free and easy down the street.

At first, Freddy had tried to be sneaky. He had moved from car to car and building to building. Crouching and crawling and trying to be oh-so-subtle. He'd felt like 007. Then it had just gotten boring and he'd given up.

After all, no one in Springwood knew he was here. No one was going to jump out at him and arrest him. He was fine. Besides, he still had his glove and he could kill here just as good as he could in dreams. In fact, it would probably be pretty fun.

He hadn't killed a person on the outside in a long time. Jason didn't count. After all, they had both practically killed each other. But right there was a good example that he could handle himself in the real world. He had kicked Jason's ass all over the place. If that bitch Lori hadn't distracted him…

__

Too bad she's no longer around, he thought sarcastically, smiling blissfully. Now that had been some night. She had moved out of the house on Elm Street but she hadn't left Springwood. She had thought herself safe. Airheaded, big-breasted blonde whore!

She'd been having some stupid dream about her prom. Naturally she was the queen and Will was the King. Some stupid song had been playing - something by one of those popular teenybopper bimbets and Lori had been _sooo_ happy. It had been sickening.

She'd been wearing this lilac number and dancing with Will in his white tuxedo and Freddy could only stomach so much of this frilly, frou frou dream. There were balloons everywhere and bad dresses and _romance_ and - thinking of it now he actually stuck a finger in his mouth as he'd done then, as if to gag, just the memory made him want to vomit.

So the music in her dream had scratched out and all the people but Will had disappeared and Lori had thought this was completely normal. Until Will seemed to grow stiff in her arms.

"Will?" She'd asked in that sort of scared, quavering lamb voice that Freddy both despised and craved. Despise because her voice alone was irritating but craved in that he wanted her scared, more than scared actually…he wanted her dead.

She had looked up into Will's face and he'd said so innocently, "What's wrong, babe?"

She drew away, screaming as Will's face had begun to rot before her eyes, his skin melting away to mere muscles and tissues, his eyes empty black sockets and he'd reached out to her, his voice a low growl, "Come to me!"

She'd screamed and tugged at her hair and been oh so dramatic as she ran from Will and the dance floor, exiting the school gym and running down its halls. Freddy had tossed in the old classic leaves in the hallway, making it silent and eerie.

He remembered hearing Lori's heartbeat in his ears. Battering around like a rat in a trap and then he'd made the lockers go crazy, snapping open and shut wildly, causing Lori to scream again as she ran from the lockers, down the hallway and into another room - or so she thought.

Because as she opened the door at the end of the hall and thrust herself into the room she saw it was again the Gym. The decorations had fallen apart, crushed and broken on the floor, and no one was in the room now, not even Will.

It was dark and quiet and Lori was gasping as she slowly sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. That's when she felt a sudden pain at the top of her scalp, as if she'd been jabbed with a sharp pin…or circles of them.

She cried out and reached up to removed her Prom Queen crown - only it wouldn't budge - worse, she drew back her hands gasping, as they had been sliced in several places. The crown had transformed into waves of razor wire. She screeched in agony, clenching her bloody palms into the material of her dress as she rose to her feet.

She started in then with some grand standing, calling out something along the lines of 'I-know-you're-there-Freddy-come-out-and-face-me-you-coward'. The usual. As if he hadn't planned on showing up eventually anyway.

And so he did so then, appearing right behind her and turning her to face him, tightening his grip as he'd pulled her close and winked, "Can I have this dance?"

Lori had screamed and struggled but it'd been no use. Her fear was stronger than even she realized, than even she'd like to admit, and he'd swung her almost violently in his arms around the dance floor, moving in large arcs as the music started again, this time a chorus of the Rolling Stones 'Sympathy for the Devil.'

Even though they danced about as if fighting, Freddy still kept it as much of a slow dance as he could and Lori noticed this with both annoyance, outrage, and even more fear, spouting off that this wasn't even a slow song.

He remembered shrugging, "Yeah, but its a helluva good song - you don't like it?"

"I HATE it! I HATE you! GET OUT OF MY DREAMS!"

"Well, if you insist…" He'd said with a rather nasty looking smirk, "Might as well cut this out."

With that he rammed his razor fingered gloves into her stomach. She'd gasped in surprise - _surprise_ - the dumb whore. He'd jammed her in the stomach again and again then slight her throat. She collapsed to the ground, bleeding out and dying and he hoped she'd heard his last words about her dress - but then he himself couldn't remember exactly what he'd said.

But he knew it had have been something funny and cutting.

Yeah, that had been one good day on the Dreamscape.

And now he was here.

He scowled and looked at his razortipped fingers. He couldn't wait to plunge his glove into one of those brats for this. He looked at the houses and smiled again. Actually, he couldn't wait to plunge his glove into anyone. Maybe he could make a quick house call before finding those kids…

That's when he heard a rumble from above. He stopped walking and looked up at the portal that had been ripped into the sky. He still didn't understand that thing but looking at it now he squinted. Was it just him, or was that hole…bigger?

The lightning continued to crackle furiously around the edges of the portal and white froth, similar to clouds, seemed to roll out of it. The center of it was dark fuchsia and purple and looked starkly familiar to him. Almost like the Dreamscape looked before he used his thoughts to manipulate it.

But that was impossible…

Freddy almost snorted as he started walking again, kicking idly at a pebble on the pavement. As if anything was _impossible_. After he'd died…legitimately…the first time, when he'd been human and torched by those holier-than-thou Springwood parents, and become the Dream Stalker thanks to those Dream Demons, he believed anything was possible.

That's when he heard a muted moan before him. He hadn't realized he'd been looking at his feet when he'd been walking and he looked up now to see a woman standing before him. She wore a torn, pink sweater and blue gray slacks. Her head was bent as if she was looking at her shoes too.

She had a massive amount of hair and as her head rose, her eyes glowed silver in the dark of the night. He recognized her instantly and blinked, his tone gruff, "You!?"

It was Nancy Thompson, just as he remembered her. Except not. In fact, she looked quite different now. True, she still had the wild mane of brown hair with the streak of silver gray he'd given her through fear alone. But now her creamy peach skin was drained of color, a bleak pale white, the congealed blue blood beneath obvious. Her tiny heart shaped mouth was dark blue violet and while her eyes were still the same color they seemed to glow now and they looked watery, glazed…

She reached out to him, showing sickly, chipped light violet nails and her mouth opened to reveal a row of teeth that looked as if they were stained silver and covered in blue gelatin. She staggered forward once, twice, then she lunged into his arms.

Freddy caught her, so startled he actually blurted, "Nancy?"

He had never really called her by her name unless he was trying to scare her but now it came out in surprise. He didn't have enough time to be chagrinned by it though, as she suddenly seemed to not only get a hold of herself, but of him.

Her fingers dug sharply into the material of his sweater, gripping his arms as she struggled forward, trying to get closer to him. She was making these terrible noises and snapping her jaw at him.

He cursed and shoved her away hard, tossing her to one side. She fell hard on the pavement and he pointed one razortipped finger at her, "You're not Nancy! I don't know what you are…but you're not her."

Freddy began to walked away, not even looking over his shoulder back at her. Something was stirring up inside him. Some…feeling. Some…emotion. He didn't like it.

But he didn't get to contemplate that either, he didn't even get three feet away from her when he suddenly saw a swarm of silver eyes glowing before him.

"Oh great, what now!" He hissed, falling into something of a defensive stance.

A swarm of zombie moved forward into his view, all making the same horrible noises Nancy had been making, he could even still hear Nancy behind him. Actually, it sounded like more than just Nancy…

He turned to see that one of the first girls who had ever defeated him now stood, hissing, as a whole army of zombies stood behind her. They must have come from whatever graveyard Nancy had come from. As for the Zombies before him, hell, maybe they were from the same place. He didn't care. All he knew was he steadily getting more and more pissed off.

"Give me a friggin' break," He muttered, shaking his head as he realized he was surrounded. He looked at his glove, then rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fuck it."

He charged forward and began slashing away at the Zombies like mad. It actually felt pretty good to finally be getting in some killing action…even if these people were all ready dead. His fingers tore away rotted dead throats and stabbed into watery, glazed eyes.

Fingers, ears, noses…all sorts of body parts flew into the air as he sliced and diced and basically tore a pathway through the Zombie hoard. They grabbed at his sweater and one even dared to touch his hat but otherwise they were ineffective in stopping him. At least, ineffective at doing it quickly.

But as more and more of them came, almost as if out of the woodwork, Freddy realized he wasn't going to win this. He was going to be overwhelmed by their sheer number and as he fought harder and faster he just kept cursing louder and louder.

This was such bullshit! If only he had his Dreamscape powers! If he did, he could do something to stop them…anything! Like, oh, he didn't know, he could make the whole road rise up like a wave and shake them away and he could ride the wave to-

Suddenly his random thoughts stopped as the road shook. Freddy looked down at his feet, eyes wide, "You gotta be shittin' me…"

The road rose up like a wave beneath him, shaking away all the zombies that had been clinging to him. He looked down at their squabbling, swarming hoard, stunned for a few brief moments.

Then he burst into a glorious, smoky cackle. He had his dream powers! In the _real world_! He didn't know what those brats had done, first with bringing him here and then the Zombies…and now this…

But, oh, they were _really_ going to pay now. He laughed again and flicked his fingers. A surfboard made of a human skeleton appeared beneath his feet and he felt almost gleeful as he rode the road like a wave, away from the Zombies and onward down Springwood's streets.

He tried to think of where to go and knew there was only one place for him. His ride ended at the abandoned power plant. His old working place, his old boiler room. He looked at it and grinned, it was good to be at his old home.

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The skeleton surfboard?! snort I allow myself one very campy, very bad thing and this is it - swear!!


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